


Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman

by skywalkerluke



Series: SkywalkerLuke writes Jangobi Week 2021 [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Jangobi Week (Star Wars), Jangobi Week 2021, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Undercover, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29180568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkerluke/pseuds/skywalkerluke
Summary: Jangobi Week 2021Day 3: Undercover5 times Obi-wan meets Jango Fett without knowing he’s Jango Fett, and the one time he does.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: SkywalkerLuke writes Jangobi Week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136870
Comments: 13
Kudos: 345
Collections: Jangobi Week





	Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the 3rd day of SkywalkerLuke writes Jangobi Week 2021!!! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading the other two stories, all your love and comments made my week! 
> 
> Hope that you enjoy this one :) 
> 
> Special thanks to the lovely Lady_Iwa for helping me with my typos, general story flow and incentive for me to finish this!

[1] 

Obi-wan meets Jango Fett for the first time while investigating the true intentions of the New Mandalorians in Sundari.

Not that he knows exactly who the man in green and red armour armour is, only that he is the one to push him in the right direction with a few thinly-veiled words of disgust towards both the New Mandalorians and Death Watch, while sitting besides Obi-wan in a seedy Sundari Cantina where the Jedi had been gathering information for a few days now, dressed in a flight suit and some mismatched armour, looking very much like a foundling.

Jango becomes a font of information, knowing the probable locations of actual evidence against both parts, being almost eager to share how much the New Mandalorian ideals were ravaging genocide against an entire culture, and how Death Watch wanted to ignore all the growth and change that the Mandalorians had had in the last centuries. 

Obi-wan pointedly ignores the sigils painted on Jango’s armour, not wanting his mind to gather enough information to compromise an anonymous informant. This Mandalorian would firmly stay in the anonymous informant category, so that Master Qui-gon couldn’t get more information than what Obi-wan wanted him to have (or Force-forbid, actually go talk with the man who had bad-mouthed Qui-gon’s new favorite friends, the New Mandalorians). 

  
  


When he leaves Sundari with enough evidence to squash the New Mandalorians in the Senate and to have the Death Watch ruled a terrorist group, he knows that the unnamed Mandalorian is the whole reason he had not been stuck for Force knows how long on the planet, with the so-called Dutchess whining at Master Qui-gon at every turn about how “violent” Mandalore was. 

He vows to find a way to thank the man. Perhaps some Coruscanti pastries? It was well deserved, mostly because he had been his salvation from having to help a faction he believed to be corrupt. 

  
  
  


[2]

The second time he meets the Mandalorian in green and red armour, they’re after the same target, for very different reasons.

Obi-wan is Senior Padawan and, although Master Qui-gon did not quite believe him ready for the Knight Trials, Grandmaster Dooku had vouched for him in front of the Council, asking for at least more solo missions for Obi-wan.

As he had argued (mostly with Master Yoda, who seemed to look at Obi-wan and still see the youngling he had once been, toddling around the Crèche), Obi-wan had already passed his combat trials, for fighting and defeating a darksider (a Sith, the Force whispered to Obi-wan), the man by the name of Darth Maul, on Naboo, and actually bringing him alive (in Force-suppressing cuffs) to the Temple. 

Obi-wan has been cleared for solo missions on Coruscant and nearby Core planets, and his first one is to find a lead on who was funding a handful of seedy businesses around the Galaxy. Slave trades, Force sensitives slaves, the damn Death Watch, the whole thing on Naboo with the Trade Federation. The Jedi could tell, from the information they had, that everything came from a single source, but everything was scrambled and almost impossible to follow. Thus, Obi-wan’s assignment. 

He was in the lower levels of Coruscant, sitting at Dex’s Diner, his padawan braid hidden under his neck, and he could swear he could breathe better without the horrible nerf tail. Dex was great at gathering information or pointing Obi-Wan in the direction of people who had that information. In this case, Obi-wan was pouring over a stack of datapads with the driest information ever, number upon number of different transactions, all scrambled through ghost accounts across the Galaxy. 

He faintly felt a presence settle near him in the Force, but it did not threaten him, so he lazily continued to check the transactions records for a moment before turning to the newcomer. The Mandalorian that had helped him in Sundari. 

“Hello, there,” he greeted the man, smiling as the man turned to him, tilting his still helmeted head like he was confused at being addressed. 

_ “Su cuy'gar, Jetii,”  _ the man answered him, gently tipping his head in greeting. 

“Shush, Mandalorian! I don’t need all of Coruscant’s lower levels knowing I’m… a you know what. They treat me so much better when they don’t know.” Obi-wan grinned at him, putting his datapads back in his satchel. 

“What should I call you instead? Baby-faced?” 

“So rude! Call me Ben.” 

“So, Ben, want to trade information again? From what Dex told me, you have read through enough datapads to bleed your eyes out, and I’m in no rush to re-do it if you already have the info.” 

“Dex told you what I’m searching for?” 

“He told me who you are searching for. I’m searching for the same person. Or organization. They’re funding Death Watch, and probably one of the largest Clans on Mandalore. If I can get enough information on it, the  _ Mand’alor  _ can convince the Clans to go against one of Death Watch’s last hideouts,” the Mandalorian explained to Obi-wan, his hushed voice showing his full determination of finding clues even through his voice modulator. 

“I’ll tell you all I know if I get to tag along while you’re searching around the Core.” 

“We’ll need to get you in some armor. You still look like you don’t belong in most places,  _ adi’ika _ .” 

“Now you’re just insulting me in  _ Mando’a _ , I can tell,” Obi-wan sighed. “I still have my flightsuit and some pieces of armor. It’s in Dex’s back room.” 

“Suit up, and maybe I’ll stop calling you  _ adi’ika _ .” 

\--------

Obi-wan felt slightly ridiculous, going around Coruscant in his half-armour. He could admit that he had become attached to the armour while in Sundari, and had stashed it with Dex. He usually used it to go eat in Little Keldabe, the Mandalorian district of Coruscant, in the Middle Levels. They had the best  _ shig,  _ and Obi-wan did love his teas. But he was not in Little Keldabe, and he most definitely did not move with the same… grace that his Mandalorian company did. That was most probably why he could feel the man’s gaze on him. Maybe even trying not to laugh at the way Obi-wan moved like a baby tooka, incertain about which parts should or should not clank together. 

  
  


They ended up finding more clues, a whole office working on the money laundering needed to falsify papers and send them to different offices through the Galaxy. They may have found the  _ beskar  _ mine, as the Mandalorian had aptly put it, but they still needed to make the right people see the evidence. 

Obi-wan said goodbye to his Mandalorian quasi-friend at Dex’s door, sending him off to his own ship with a bag of pastries, and went to the Temple with a new stock of to-go shig. 

It’d be nice to know the man’s name, though. 

  
  
  


[3] 

Obi-wan was on an Outer-Rim planet the third time he saw the Mandalorian in green and red armour. The armour had clearly been updated, a fancy jet pack now added to it. 

The Jedi had finally been promoted to the rank of Knight, after a long tug-of-war between Master Qui-Gon and Grandmaster Dooku (and Greatgrandmaster Yoda, who had looked forlorn at the prospect of the youngest padawan of his lineage being a Knight). 

He had been offered a place with the Shadows, considering his feats of defeating a Sith Apprentice and finding enough evidence to implicate the Viceroy of Trade Federation and some Senators with the ongoing investigation of the Sith involvement in the Republic Senate. However, he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life chasing almost literal shadows, scraps of information about long-gone Sith, when he could actually be doing something against the evil in the Galaxy. 

Obi-wan was deeply undercover for almost a standard year, following a lead (a possible darksider, but not twisted enough in the Dark Side to actually be a Sith Apprentice) who continued to hop planets around the Outer-Rim, always leaving behind a corpse and the faintest paper trail that connected her actions to different offices that laundered money for the Sith (not that they knew who the karking Sith Lord was, but they were following his trail, him and many other Jedi Knights, in what he hoped would one day lead to the discovery of the Siths)

He was almost surprised when the woman snuck behind him in an alley, screaming against the Jedi Temple and how they destroyed everything they touched. She had attacked him and he had almost lost against her, her use of dual lightsabers throwing him off-balance. The scream coming from her Kyber crystals had been almost too much, bludgeoning his shields, asking for help, for healing. 

She had been subdued only when a well-aimed blaster shot had knocked off one of her lightsabers, making her yell in pain and try to find her other attacker, the Force around her nebulous and tinted with grief. Obi-wan could finally disarm her of her last lightsaber, the Mandalorian helping him snap Force-suppressant cuffs on her while she snarled at him and snapped, managing to hit the Mandalorian on his helmet hard enough for the man to audible groan, holding his head between his hands. 

Her name, she screamed at him between accusations against the Order and grief for her lost Master, was Asajj. 

The Mandalorian had wanted to be gone as soon as he had come but Obi-wan called after him and, to his surprise, the Mandalorian had turned around. They spoke quietly on the way to Obi-wan’s ship, with the same camaraderie from the other times they had seen each other. 

“You should give me your comm number, even if you don’t give me your name. We’re most certainly looking for the same people. We could help each other out.” 

This time, the man had taken off his helmet, holding it under one of his arms. Obi-wan could see the faint blush in the man’s cheeks when he spoke about helping each other out, and smiled gently at him: 

“You don’t need to give me more information than you’re comfortable sharing. But I think we make a good pair.” 

The man ran his hand through his wild curls and nodded. They could exchange information, but he’d prefer if the Jedi did not know the information was coming from a Mandalorian. Obi-wan did not have any problem with the man informing his superiors who was supplying him with information, but asked him not to send any other Mandalorians after him. 

“I wasn’t trailing you, you know. I was following her paper trail. She seems awfully angry for someone so young.” 

“It was her anger that made her an easy target to her employers. And easy for us to find. But I can sense her grief. She’s projecting it so strongly in the Force that I want to cry.”

From what he could gather, she had been found by a Master who himself was lost. Stranded from the Temple, he still did his best to train her in the way of the Jedi of Coruscant. He had died at the hands of Jedi-hating pirates and she blamed his Jedi ways for his death. 

“I’ll have to take her to the nearest Jedi with some space on his ship to take her all the way to the Core. My ship isn’t made for so much travel time with more than one person.” 

“I’ll meet you on Bandomeer. It’s near the Mandalore system border, but neutral enough for you. In a ten-day?” 

Obi-wan grimaced at the prospect of Bandomeer, but nodded. The last thing the Mandalorian did before grinning at him and taking off with his jetpack was to program his comm number in Obi-wan’s comm. 

  
When Obi-wan checked the contact later, the name was: Jango. 

  
  


[4] 

  
  


Obi-wan checked in with Jango after leaving Asajj with a pair of Knights on their way to the Core. They met at an abandoned spaceport in Bandomeer, Obi-wan downing his mismatched armour, walking quietly beside Jango towards the center of Bandor. 

“The place we’re looking for is not far from the main center of the capital. I don’t know how much information it will still have after nearly 15 years, but it’s worth taking a look at Offworld's offices.” Obi-wan informed Jango, as they snuck through a roof towards the least protected entry point. 

“Whoever took care of Offworld's operation here on Bandomeer would preserve these files. They would be a great bribe or enough source of information to threaten very well known people in the Core. It’d be worth keeping it, and keeping it safe.” Jango spoke, his HUD informing him that no lifeforms or droids were near the corridor they had landed on. 

They found the main Record Room, with rows upon rows of machinery and datapads, neatly catalogued and organized. 

“The person who did this was very neat. Or with OCD, look at all the little tags with dates” Jango marveled at it, surprise clear in his voice. 

“Jango, now it’s not the time to think about the organization. Let’s just pick all the relevant information and be gone. I don’t think we have much time.” The Force was urgent in Obi-wan’s ears, his feet taking him towards the correct stack of datapads. He quickly checked them for tracking chips, and the usual boring job of checking each of them for pertinent data was saved by a tiny summary embedded in the beginning of each document. 

“I think someone wanted this to be found. Perhaps an unhappy employee, or someone with a guilty conscience. It’s too organized. The data isn’t even scrambled.”

“Or someone didn’t think that others would be able to track Offworld’s involvement in this. Someone got cocky, and did not think to actually scramble or try to erase their tracks. These are trophies, Jango. Trophies of their wrongdoings.” 

“C’mon, we have to go. We’ve spent much time here already, we can read the rest of it on the ship”.

\---------

It had been two days since they had broken in Offworld’s office, and they had so much data to go through. The accounts were detailed and organized, but they needed to cross reference comm longs, money trails, travel logs, in order to have a complete visualization of how Offworld and it’s former boss had been in contact with the rotten Core Senators. 

Obi-wan gasped, his eyes going wide, hands shaking. 

“Obi, are you alright? What did you find?” 

“Xanatos… he attacked the Jedi Temple in Coruscant when I was 13. He did it on Chancellor Palpatine’s orders. Not that the documents actually say his name, but look: it’s his comm number, under another name, Sidious” 

Obi-wan could feel the Force go to a standstill as he spoke, chilling him to the bone. 

“Jango, the Supreme Chancellor is behind everything”. 

  
  


[5]

  
  


Obi-wan went to the Bandomeer Agricorps facilities, needing a direct line to the Jedi Temple. He spoke about everything he had found to the High Council, who insisted that another Knight continue his work. He was too young and inexperienced to slice into anything pertaining to the Supreme Chancellor, they said, even though he was the Knight who had captured the highest number of Darksiders in the last years.    
  
The Council wasn’t happy with his appeal, but it was decided that a group of Knights and Masters would search for informations in Coruscant, where the Chancellor currently was, and Obi-wan was allowed to pursue the “less dangerous” option: the house the Chancellor maintained in Naboo, even though he went there less and less. It was still marked as belonging to him and occupied, so he at least employed someone there, or the Naboo Housing Council would’ve marked it as vacant. 

He bitched about it to Jango, complaining about the lack of faith the Council seemed to have on him, and Jango just commented that if he was a Mandalorian Supercommando, the  _ Mand’alor  _ never would’ve spoken like this to him. It is his chase, he should follow it. 

Obi-wan just groaned, saying that he did not need validation, but trust from them. Jango just shrugged, saying that at least Obi-wan knew that  _ Jango  _ trusted him, which made the Jedi blush and stutter in his rant, much to Jango’s amusement. 

\-------------

They went to Naboo, the planet lush and green, completely healed from the Trade Federation Invasion. They landed near the city outskirts, trying not to attract attention to their ships. Obi-wan slowly guided them to the nicer part of the city, with sprawling homes and well-maintained gardens. They stood out like a sore thumb, even with the “disguise ponchos” Obi-wan had insisted they use. 

Jango loudly complained about how ridiculous he looked, but it was effective in covering most of his armour. A pacifist world like Naboo would not take lightly to an armed Mandalorian traipsing around it’s nicer neighbourhoods, and they did not need that kind of attention. 

They arrived at the correct address, and the house seemed deserted. They did an override on the security for a side-door, and slowly inched their way through the house, looking for an office or a holo room. 

They must’ve triggered a silent alarm, and Obi-wan could feel the Force go cold around him, the house being completely swarmed by Clankers in a matter of minutes, the odious little droids shooting at them, bolts reflecting against Jango’s armour, and Obi-wan doing his best to deflect it with his lightsaber, jumping and tumbling the droids with the Force, but limited to the wideness of the corridor. 

“Obi-wan, this way!” Jango called him, shooting against the droids and making a path to a side-door, a place Obi-wan could feel through the Force that was covered in a slimy sensation. With dread in the pit of his stomach, he cut the last of the droids and jumped towards Jango, tumbling into the room. 

He gasped, the Force feeling warped and outright dark inside this room, like it had been a place of many misdeeds and horrors. He was drawn towards a niche in a wall, where he could see a key was needed to open it. 

“Jango, we need to slice it. But I’m having trouble focusing, the Force is pulling me in a number of directions.” 

“Go after it. I’ll follow you. Just need a few moments to slice this, and make sure it won’t try to kill me if I do.” 

Obi-wan found a number of evidence, including Sith holocrons and evidence of the presence of more than one darksider. He could feel echoes of Maul and Asajj, and of an unknown, bigger evil, that he’d bet was the Chancellor.

They ran through the roofs, Obi-wan clutching tightly his satchel against his body, even as the holocrons seemed to burn him with their coldness. They were the vital evidence needed to finish years of work, to bring the Galaxy to a better place, and to stop the killing sprees and kidnappings by Death Watch in the Mandalore system. 

Clankers were coming after them, being dispatched by swift strokes of Obi-wan’s lightsaber, and Jango’s well-aimed shots. They were out of breath when they finally arrived at the city outskirts, the droids still following them, and no doubt sending data over to Coruscant, warning of presence inside the Chancellor’s home. 

“We need to warn the Jedi Temple. And your leader. There may be retaliations before we’re able to actually connect all the dots.” Obi-wan warned Jango. 

“We’re covered. When I sliced the security system, I made sure that any signal would only be sent back to the source.” Jango answered, and Obi-wan could tell that he was grinning behind his helmet, even while aptly giving an end to the droids following them. 

“You… you utter idiot! Why did you not tell me? I was very worried about the other Jedis. Force knows the plans of a Sith against us” 

Jango just laughed, his hand going to Obi-wan’s arm, and stop him from going to his own ship. 

“Come with me. Your ship is not going to last the whole trip to the Core. Not without delaying you terribly.” 

Obi-wan made a wounded sound, his cheeks warming with the concern in Jango’s voice. Even if he spoke like the evidence was more important, and needed to be swiftly delivered, Obi-wan could feel the warmth in the Force, the underlying feeling of care. He cradled Jango’s helmet in his hands, gently taking it off, leaving Jango confused. 

Obi-wan kissed his dear friend, one hand cradling his jaw, gasping softly when Jango kissed him back enthusiastically, cradling Obi-wan’s head in his hand, radiating warmth and love-love-love in the Force, who tingled like a hundred tiny bells against Obi-wan’s skin, making him smile. 

“You know how Mandalorians feel about kissing, don’t you?” Jango quietly questioned, trying to be sure of Obi-wan’s intentions and knowledge, his forehead gently resting against Obi’s. 

“Say the vows with me,  _ cyare _ ” Obi-wan smiled at Jango, who grinned brightly at him.

  
  
  


[+1] 

Jango had finally convinced Obi-wan that he would be welcomed with open arms in Keldabe, and that celebrating the course of their 5 years of partnership while also celebrating the downfall of Chancellor Palpatine,his office, and the Trade Federation was a too good an opportunity to pass. Not counting the absolute fuss of his buir when Jango told him about their want to exchange marriage vows. 

“C’mon, Ob’ika, you enjoy  _ shig _ ! Think about all the shig you’ll have if you come to Keldabe to celebrate. We love to have a good party, and this is one of the best reasons. My buir will like to know that I haven’t imagined you all along.” 

Obi-wan laughed, throwing his head back and enjoying the way it made Jango flush bright red, eyes roaming over Obi-wan. 

Ever since Obi-wan had decided that his attraction to the Mandalorian wouldn’t lead him to the Dark Side (it had involved a good dose of teasing from Bant and Quinlan, until he had admitted to them about his attraction to Jango, but he had decided that it would only bring him happiness), he had shyly started pursuing the other man, making his interest in Jango know through tiny and careful touches in the man who spent so much time fully covered in armour. Luckily for him, Jango had seemed to understand what Obi-wan wanted from him, corresponding to his soft touches and bringing him tea whenever it was possible. 

The Force agreed with Obi-wan's assessment of the situation, tingling with almost-laughter when they had kissed for the first time, in the after-battle high of Naboo, just glad to be alive and mostly intact, together. It had flourished around him as they spoke about actually saying their vows, how Jango wanted to do it in his motherland, and how the Force had wrapped itself around them like a blanket as their lives became one, their bodies joined in tender love for the first time.

Jango smiled down at him, gently curling his hand in Obi-wan’s hair and kissing his temple. 

“You’ll really enjoy it, I promise” 

“When you say it like that… How could I refuse? I’ll go with you to Mandalore.” Obi-wan answered him, softly kissing him and running his hands through Jango’s hair, making him shudder. 

Obi-wan only grinned at him, kissing his  _ cyare  _ again.

  
  


\------- 

  
  


Jango and Obi-wan descended on a private landing spot in Keldabe, Obi-wan curiously peering through the windows. 

“Jango… why are there so many people waiting for us? With flags?” 

“It’s just my family, cyar'ika. Nothing to worry about. The  _ Haat Mando’ade _ … they’re just happy you’re coming. Let’s go meet them.”

Obi-wan curled his hand around Jango’s when going down the ship’s ramp, his eyes widening as the Supercommandos waiting for them started saluting and shouting  _ Alor!  _

“Welcome home, Jan’ika! And this must be the famous Obi-wan Kenobi!” a tall, greying men embraced them both. 

“ _ Mand’alor _ ,” Jango grinned, cheekily saluting the man, who was apparently Jaster Mereel, the leader of the whole Mandalore system? Obi-wan could feel his eyes widening, all his Jedi training to keep a blank face under pressure going away as he turned to look at his partner. 

“Jango, is there something you forgot to tell me?” 

“Ob’ika, this is my Buir, Jaster. Buir, this is my  _ cyar'ika _ , Obi-wan.” 

Obi-wan saluted the Mand’alor, who grinned at him and called him a polite little thing. 

“Watch out, buir. Ob’ika does not enjoy being called little. I have a scar to prove it.” 

“This is a lie, Jango. Stop being so uncivilized,” Obi-wan chided, as if he was talking to a youngling.

Jaster laughed and started guiding them to the compound, where a feast was waiting. 

“So, Jango, how did you forget to tell me you were Jango Fett, Commander of the  _ Haat Mando’ade _ , and heir to the  _ Mand’alor  _ title?”

“You never asked,  _ cyar'ika _ . I assumed you knew.” Jango grinned wolfishly at him, warm brown eyes brighter than ever. “And the title is not hereditary, they’d have to vote me in.” 

“Jango, I can feel the love and trust of your men in the Force. They trust you completely. You will be the next  _ Mand’alor _ , have no doubt.” 

“Well, I guess I’ll be the  _ Mand’alor  _ with a Mandalorian  _ Jetti  _ beside me, won’t I?” 


End file.
